“If you had cancer, like Annie did, I’d stay. This is the same thing. Like Aunt Nora said, you have a disease. You’re sick. And if we don’t treat it, you could die. Or at least have a really awful life.”

“You are making too big a deal of this!” Hannah says. “Seriously. Like, I’m sorry I didn’t come home one night—ground me or whatever. I don’t need this, like, this fucking intervention, and I don’t need you to give up your dreams, and this is so stupid, it’s just so—”

Aunt Nora stands. “This isn’t about last night. It’s about all the weeks before that.”

“But we’ll start with last night,” Uncle Tony says. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t even call, Hannah. Your sister’s birthday, the first without your parents. We couldn’t believe it. Thought something terrible had to have happened for you to pull something like that. Didn’t want to worry Mae because she was already so upset about your dad, so we tried to handle it on our own. Your phone was off. I was getting ready to call the cops this morning, but then Mae told us about the pills. We were terrified. You were out in a snowstorm, on drugs. And then, considering who you were with—”

Nah throws a look of pure hatred toward the chairs Nate and I sit in by the fireplace. “You don’t know Drew at all. You’re just judging him because he’s not like you, all brilliant and—”

“We’re judging him because he sold you drugs, Hannah,” Nate says.

“Not in forever!”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Forever? Considering you’ve known him for about a month, that means he sold you some, what, last week?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey.” Aunt Nora glares at Nah. “There’s no excuse for that. Your cousin loves you. That’s why he’s here. I’m sure there are a lot more things Nate would rather be doing.”

“Then he should go do them,” she snaps.

Who is this girl? Where is my sister, who rubbed Mom’s lotion into my hands when I was sad?

Aunt Nora seems to read my mind.

“She’s in withdrawal. They said she’d be … irritable. Among other things.”

Nah gives an inarticulate growl. “I don’t appreciate being talked about like I’m not here.”

“And none of us appreciate being talked to like we’re the enemy,” Aunt Nora says. “We have to make some decisions about next steps. All of us.”

She looks around, and I swear we’re suddenly in a courtroom and she’s about to give one of her opening statements. She’s decided Hannah is guilty, and now there will be consequences.

“What are her options?” Nate asks.

“They want me to go to fucking rehab,” Nah says. “Just because I came home one time on something—”